Sarasvatichandra and Chandravali Even the adverse turn of fortune of such persons proves very wonderful, since divine personages like these come to minister to their wants.³⁰⁰ It was Sarasvatichandra’s practice to stay back at the hermitage whenever the ascetics went down the mountain to seek alms. Viharpuri, Radhedas and a few attendants would usually stay back with him. But today even Viharpuri had set out to seek alms. Sarasvatichandra walked around the cave situated at the back of the ashram. Radhedas sat reading near the front entrance. The attendants were busy cooking their own meals. Sarasvatichandra’s head was in turmoil ever since he had visited Surgram. On his way down Sundargiri he had seen Kumud, who was almost unrecognisable. The banter of the two groups of ascetics had given wings to his imagination. The old newspapers that the school teacher had made available confounded him completely. The newspapers had reported various stories about the domestic lives of Kumud Sundari, Saubhagya Devi, Pramaddhan, Buddhidhan, Sheth Laxminandan, Samant Mulu and others. These reports had pained him. Last evening a song composed by Kumud had been sung; he was still unravelling its meaning. His mind was full of her. Was this beautiful, delicate Madhuri really Kumud? Manchatura had been unable to find any trace of her. Could this Madhuri who floated to the island merely resemble Kumud? Deep pain has left its marks on her; she is a pale reflection of her earlier self, but the resemblance with Kumud is unmistakable. Has her face withered so much in the short time since she and I left Suvarnapur? There was a barb against me in the song that was sung yesterday. Who but my poor Kumud could have written such a song? I am the cause of her widowhood. She jumped into the river because of me. Did I push her in? Yes, it was me. Oh God! I am still alive, and yet she has become a widow. I have decided to become an ascetic. Now that Saubhagya Devi is no more, Kumud’s existence at her in-laws’ would be terribly lonely. She cannot imagine even in her dreams that Pramaddhan is no more. What immeasurable sorrow would the news cause her? I will not be able to bear witness to her grief. If she is really Kumud, I would take her to Gunasundari’s house. Laxman had left Sita in the forest. When they met again he told her, ‘Mother, the wretched Laxman who caused you so much grief bows to you.’ I will bow to Gunasundari and give her Kumud’s grief-stricken hand. I will face Gunasundari, though I have no right to show my face to anyone anymore. Sarasvatichandra, you are wretched and depraved! That will be my penance. But is Madhuri really Kumud? Chandrakant, I need you and your calm rational mind to support my unsteady heart and lead me out of this quandary. You are wandering around in search of me. I, too, am searching for you, but thus far our